User blog:~Silverstream/Beside Me The Whole Damn Time: Part Two
This was it, Fitz thought. He hadn't had the gall to introduce himself to the girl in class yesterday, but he knew he would today. Second day at the academy, no longer a newbie. At least, he hoped he wasn't still a newbie in everyone else's eyes. After dressing himself and all but inhaling a protein bar, he set out for his Chemical Kinetics class. Along the way, he paused as he heard a few students murmuring to one another by the wall. Inching closer to them, he heard one whisper, "Yeah, the boiler room. Tonight, you game?" A girl who looked to be rather put-together scoffed at the boy who suggested this. "The boiler room? You must be joking. What idiot would go down there to hang out?" The male student, his blue eyes sparkling, continued to insist. "Nah, you don't get it... it's not what you think. And even more? I bet we can make it better..." Assuming he'd already heard more than he was meant to, Fitz hurried along past them. Now, he'd developed something of a habit (after one day) of counting his steps on the way to each of his classes. "One hundred five, one hundred six, one hundred... seven!" He smiled to himself as he peered inside the classroom, scanning the space for the neatly tied, amber-colored hair of his classmate. His heart fluttered when he spotted her, but again sank when he realized that the seat beside her was already taken, by another female student. She paid no more mind to her new desk mate than she had to him, her nose already stuck into her textbook and notes. Fitz awkwardly shuffled past, settling into the desk just behind her. He lowered his head, and scanned his mind for anything he could do to grab her attention. Saying "hey, you!" was far too rude. Poking her in the back with a pencil? Elementary, and might just get him smacked. So instead, he opted for loudly clearing his throat, until she finally looked around at him, her eyebrows raised. "Are you choking?" She asked dryly. "I know CPR." Fitz shook his head quickly. "No no no, I... I'm fine, erm... so, so what's your name?" "...Jemma. Jemma Simmons." He blinked, as if too stunned to reply. He opened his mouth to respond with his own name, but was interrupted when Professor Hall thundered into the classroom, all with the same vigor as the day before. Fitz slumped back in his seat and let out a sigh, slight disappointment mixed with a spark of excitement. Come lunchtime, Fitz's mind had grown busy with ideas and answers from the classes before. He also recounted the exact number of times Professor Hall had bounced up on his toes in exhilaration. Twenty-one seemed like a lot for one class, not that he was complaining. The professor's enthusiasm was incredibly contagious. Not looking very attentively to where he was going, he was awakened from his thoughts when he crashed into another student with his lunch tray, spilling the contents all over the unfortunate victim. Before he could open his mouth to apologize, he realized the startled shriek had come from none other than Jemma Simmons. She glared at him calmly, her white and black polka-dotted blouse covered in red pasta sauce. "I don't know who you are," she began. "But I'd like to advise you to look where you're going next time you're carrying a tray of hot food." "Ah, God, I..." Fitz tried to stutter an apology, and reached toward her shirt to wipe off the sauce, but thankfully thought better of it and swiftly pulled away. "I, I am so, so sorry..." Simmons fluffed the tailored jacket that hung around her shoulders. "Yes, well... I'm new just as well as you, but at least we're not as brutish as the cadets over at Operations..." Fitz let out an awkward chuckle. "Yeah, brutes, the lot of them... W-Well, I should be going... see you around." He walked away as quickly as he could without seeming too out of place, despite the fact that his face had grown as red as the pasta sauce. Last class of the day, Fitz thought. Last class, then he could go back to the safety of his dorm and work on his projects. "History of S.H.I.E.L.D." A class taught by Professor Vaughn, Fitz could already see why his lectures were infamous for putting students to sleep. Only Professor Vaughn, he decided, could take a rich history like that of S.H.I.E.L.D., and make it drier than the Serengeti Desert... As Fitz sat down at a desk near the front of the class, he spotted Simmons out of the corner of his eyes. He didn't dare try and talk to her again. He figured she already hated him, and it was all his fault, and there's nothing he could do about it. So he opted to focus his attention fully on the lecture... well, that was the intention. Professor Vaughn was apparently going to make a habit of beginning every class by having all the students recite what "S.H.I.E.L.D." actually stands for. The bored answers were identical throughout the class. "Strategic Homeland Investigation, Enforcement, and Logistics Division." "Very good." Vaughn replied. Now before I dive into today's lesson, who here already knows something about the Tesseract? Fitz smiled softly when he saw Simmons' hand shoot straight up to answer. Soon, he thought to himself. He'll do better, he'll properly introduce himself, and they'll have a laugh about the lunch incident, and all will be fine. Or, maybe that's not quite what's in store for them... Category:Blog posts